Choice
by Mermes
Summary: Heptarian really doesn't have time for this. He can hear mutters from the audience and is certain Pasiphae is watching him, planning the best way to kill him and make it look like an accident. "Just do it," he spits out. "I'm a dead man either way."


The world is made of nothing but sand, sweat and blood.

That's what it feels like to Heptarian as he hits the ground once again and everything starts to spin. He closes his eyes, small stars bursting in the darkness of his eyelids, and prays to any God that will listen. He coughs and isn't surprised when the metallic taste of blood fills his mouth, but he cannot give up. Not now.

As he struggles to sit up, he sees that his opponent has also fallen, exhausted. How long have they been fighting? It feels like a thousand years; a thousand years of kicking and punching and scratching and fighting for their lives. He's on his knees now, and he feels a pair of eyes burning through him. He doesn't need to look up to know who they belong to.

_'Do not disappoint me,'_ Pasiphae had said before he'd walked into the arena. She hadn't bothered to hide the fact that failure will mean a one-way trip to the Underworld for her nephew.

Right now, Heptarian isn't sure of what would be worse: that damn doll and the needles or death. All he knows is that he has to win, to kill Jason and marry Ariadne. It's the only way he'll survive, but even if he does, Pasiphae will always be lurking in the shadows, ready to strike if he shows any sign of weakness or rebellion. She wants the throne, and badly.

With a grunt, he manages to stand, trying to keep his balance as the world tips to one side. His whole body aches and shakes with exhaustion. He spots the knife half-buried in the sand and lunges for it, but is stopped as someone collides with him and sends them both tumbling to the ground. It seems that Jason has recovered a lot faster than he expected, which is bad news.

They roll on the sand, inflicting as much damage on the other as they can. Jason manages to punch him in the jaw, and Heptarian retaliates in kind by kicking him in the shin. It's all a wild, almost animalistic mess of curses, pain and, at least on Heptarian's part, despair.

And then, in one small instant, everything goes to hell.

He hears the blow before he feels it. Jason's fist sinks into his stomach and he cries out, hands instinctively letting go of the man. It's all the other man needs; with one quick movement he stands up, grabs the knife and in no time at all Heptarian finds himself straddled by him, with the blade at his throat. He's completely powerless, at the mercy of this boy. It's not compulsory to kill in the Pankration, but he's certain the younger man hates him enough to kill him. He's counting on it, for he'd rather die at his hands now than wait for his aunt to do it. He just hopes it's quick.

However, Jason hesitates, his hazel eyes full of uncertainty as his gaze meets his opponent's.

Heptarian really doesn't have time for this. He can hear mutters from the audience and is certain Pasiphae is watching him, planning the best way to kill him and make it look like an accident.

"Just do it," he spits out. "I'm a dead man either way."

Jason frowns, puzzling over his words. The knife is still aimed at Heptarian's throat.

"Are you simply going to sit there until I beg you to kill me?" Heptarian snaps.

But Jason isn't paying attention to him. He's looking at Pasiphae with pursed lips, and Heptarian can almost see the exact moment when he figures it out.

"She'll kill you, won't she?" It's more of a statement than a question.

"She will if you don't," he replied. Why bother with lies or silence if he's going to die anyway?

It takes him a moment to realize that the knife isn't pressed against his throat anymore. In fact, Jason is shifting ever so slightly, trying not to make it too noticeable, as if he wants Heptarian to-

"What in the name of the Gods are you _doing_?"

"Do what you have to do, Heptarian."

"_What_?" He's so shocked he can't think properly.

Jason gives him a tight smile. "Do what you have to do, and _please_ don't make me regret this."

And Heptarian does it. In one swift movement, taking advantage of Jason's changed position, he pins the younger man to the ground and grabs the knife, pressing it to his throat. Jason looks oddly serene now as he looks up at him and, for the first time in his life, Heptarian doesn't know what to do.

It would be easy, _so easy_, to slit the man's throat and be done with it. He would win, he would marry Ariadne, he would _live_.

But he can't do it.

In sparing his life, Jason has shown him a kindness the likes of which he has never known. People fear him, respect him, but they have never been kind to him. Jason, this stranger who crossed his path in the market that day, has been the first. _'But what will Pasiphae do if you spare him?'_ a snide little voice whispers inside his head. Pasiphae will surely torture them. And yet...

Does he want to live in his aunt's shadow forever? Does he want to keep fearing her, to be another of her little toys?

The knife falls to the ground.

He doesn't tear his gaze away from Jason's as he raises his hand, indicating that he has decided to spare his opponent's life, and then stands up. The crowd is going wild, but he barely hears it as he offers his hand to the younger man, who takes it.

"Why did you do it?" he asks.

Jason gives him a crooked smile. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I did make you face the bulls." _'And wanted to kill you not too long ago.'_

"You didn't deserve to die, Heptarian." His smile vanishes as quickly as it appeared. "Not because of her."

Heptarian nods, not knowing what to say.

"Do you..." Jason trails off. "Do you truly want to marry Ariadne?"

Heptarian sighs. "No. Pasiphae is the one who wants me to, so she will be able to use me when I become King."

"And she'll kill you if you don't obey?"

"Yes."

Jason bites his lip. "What will she do to you now?"

"I believe you got a taste of it during the bull-leaping." He gives him a quick smile. "However, I don't regret what I did. You're a good man, Jason."

Jason smiles back. "You're not too bad yourself."

Hours later, when he's gasping with pain and struggling to breathe, feeling as if a thousand knives are plunging into his skin, tearing his flesh to shreds, twisting, slicing and ripping his muscles apart while Pasiphae watches impassively, there's only one thought on his mind.

_It was worth it._


End file.
